


Starting The Future

by Nbriggs19



Series: Chasing The Past [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Civil War (Marvel), Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Marvel Universe, Mind Reading, Smut, Stolivia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5608117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nbriggs19/pseuds/Nbriggs19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brock is gone and Bucky is home and for once in either of their lives, the future seems bright for Steve and Olivia. They've both sworn off chasing the past, so now they're starting their future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting The Future

**Monday, July 6th.**

Olivia was discharged from the hospital a few days after their mission had ended and she was returned to her loft in Lower Manhattan. She had set up a safe house for Bucky, which, incidentally, happened to be the apartment Steve grew up in, and Sam decided to move in with him to make sure that he stayed in the right state of mind. Steve, on the other hand, went back to Avengers Tower, where he was faced with a problem: when was he going to see Olivia again?

He stood in the kitchen commons of the Tower, trying to decide what to do next. A certain red-head found him there, staring down at his phone in his hands, biting down on his bottom lip and being completely oblivious.

"You alright, Steve?" she asked, walking toward him and quirking an eyebrow up at him.

"Huh?" he murmured, bringing his eyes up to hers. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine...Why?" he managed, locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket.

_What a horrible liar,_ she thought. "You need to go to bed, Steve," she stated. "It's late, you need to sleep. Frankly, at your age, you should've been in bed at 4:30," she said, finding herself quite amusing.

"I've actually been meaning to ask you something..." he began.

"Whatever it is, it can wait until the morning," she said, taking him by the arm and yanking him toward the elevator. "For now, get some damn sleep."

"Nat, wait!" he protested, digging his heels in. "I need your help!"

"It can wait!" she replied.

"Nat, I met a girl!" he admitted. She stopped, turning to face him again, a confused look on her face. "...I met a girl," he repeated, quieter this time.

"I knew it!" she said, accusingly pointing a finger up at him. "You've been distant ever since you got back, not saying more than two words to anyone, staring down at your phone. I should've known," she said, quite content with her discovery. "...It's a girl." He sighed, agitated and, frankly, a bit embarrassed. "Good for you, Steve." She turned back, waltzing into the kitchen and perching herself on the counter. "So, tell me about her."

He joined her, leaning against the counter opposite her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well," he breathed, not knowing where to begin. "...She's smart, brilliant even. She's kind, sweet, understanding. She's one of those rare people who can pity you without making you feel small or tiny. And she's strong, too. If she tells you what she's been through, which is a lot...you'll realize how amazing it is that she still laughs and tells jokes- and that's another thing: she has this amazing smile," he gushed, trying to restrain a smile. "...But, she can be intimidating as hell..." he said with a laugh.

"Sounds like you're in love, Steve," Natasha replied, smiling.

He shrugged. "I just met her 6 days ago."

"Yet, you seem to know a ton about her."

"I really don't. Because, I still have no idea how to talk to her."

"Now that the mission's done you want to see more of her," Natasha concluded. "But...?"

"I don't know how to..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"How to ask her out?"

"Yes, that," Steve nodded.

"Why do guys always make this so complicated? You have her number, right?" He nodded. "Then, call her, and ask her. 'Would you like to get cup of coffee sometime?' 'Wanna catch a movie?' Just ask."

"But--"

"Nope. That is all you have to do. I swear, no woman will be offended because you want to take them out on a date. Give yourself some credit, Steve. You're a good guy, not to hard on the eyes either. Will you quit doubting yourself?"

He sighed heavily. "...Yeah, yeah, you're right."

"I know," she said, smugly, jumping down from the counter. She punched him playfully on the arm. "It's about damn time one of you realized it," she murmured, walking into the elevator and going up to her floor.

Steve took a deep breath, looking down at her number that she had given him 'in case, Bucky ever needs anything...or something.' Now or never, he thought, dialing the number.

"Hello?" her sweet, tired voice answered the phone.

"Hi. It's me, it's Steve. I'm so sorry for calling this late..." he said, realizing the mistake he was making.

"Oh, no, don't worry about it. I'm up doing paperwork, anyways. What can I do for you?" she asked. "Is something going on with Bucky?"

"No, no, he's fine, better than fine, actually."

"That's good to hear. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I was, uh...wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner sometime? W-With me? Like, y'know, like as a, uh, as a date?" he finally managed, hearing himself rambling but not being able to stop.

He heard her laugh over the phone, in her warm, light-hearted laugh. "Sure, I'd love to."

"R-really?"

"Of course. I was actually waiting for you to ask."

"You were waiting?"

"Well, I was going to ask you in a few days if you hadn't but I'm glad that you got up the nerve to ask me."

"Well, in that case, sorry about the wait," he laughed.

“Better late than never, right?" she replied.

"I'd hate to keep you waiting any longer, so, how does Friday sound?"

"Friday sounds perfect," she chirped.

"Great! So, can I pick you up around seven-ish? And, we'll go grab a bite to eat?"

"Perfect. I can't wait."

"Me too. So, I guess I'll see you Friday?"

"Yep. See you then, Captain."

"See you then."

He hung up, smiling proudly down at his phone.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Natasha asked with a smirk, still leaning against the elevator door.

* * *

 

####  **Friday, July 11th.**

It was odd, at first. Olivia had only met this guy a few days ago and, there she was, about to go on a date with him. Only a few days ago, she was cynical and pessimistic and _perfectly_ _fine_. Now? This man had saved her life and she saved his in exchange. This man was honest and smart and good, and he was the only person who hadn't lied to her. He proved everything she thought about the world wrong, in only a series of conversations. Then, there was that kiss in the hospital. Oh, God, _that kiss_. That just proved that he thought she was just as special as she thought he was. Was it odd, going this quickly? Of course it was. She even thought for a moment that maybe she was being too hasty, going too quickly. She thought she was acting like some pathetic school-girl, going on and on about her true love, a man she met only once before. But, then, she reminded herself: it's just a date, one date. _I'm not promising to marry the guy._ It's just a post-mission get-together, nothing special... _oh, but that kiss, though_. Her mind went in circles, trying to decide how to feel. The only thing she knew for sure was that things may have been going fast, but she was fine with that. It may have been childish and hasty but she was okay with it, she wanted to be childish and hasty and sappy and to trust blindly, because he was the first person she actually felt like she could trust blindly. It may have been naive, or idiotic but she didn't care, she trusted him. Besides, what was the problem? He was a great guy who obviously had feelings for her, too. What was the harm in one date?

It was odd for him, too. This girl was, not only a spy, but a mind-reading spy. She was dangerous, he knew that, and he didn't care. She was one of the only people who at least made an effort to understand what he went through, instead of just making old-man jokes. He felt that, on every level, she understood him and because of that, he felt close to her, comfortable around her. Being himself around her came naturally and easily. She was good, too. She was beaten and broken a thousand times, but she still found a reason to do good and to be good even when every voice around her was forcing her in the other direction. She was resilient, strong and unbelievably kind. She may have been wronged so many times, but underneath it all, she still found good and beauty in the world in a way that he marveled at. She was kind and understanding and she would do anything for the people she cared for. How could he not find her amazing? This strong, smart, _good_ woman... _that he met a few days ago._ He felt like he had known her for years but it was only a week ago. How could someone he only met a few days ago know him this well? Trust him this much? This girl was brilliant but was everything going to quickly? What if he was just so desperate for someone to pour his heart out to that he jumps into something and winds up getting hurt? With both of their jobs, could they even be something more? What if someone hurt her to get to him? What if he lost her, just like he lost everyone else?

No. He wasn't going to scare himself out of this. He wanted this. He needed this. He needed someone to talk to, someone to understand him. He wasn't going to run away this time. He’d missed out once, he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Olivia said that he needed to find out what makes him happy, well, she made him happy. She understood, she cared, and she pushed him toward happiness, telling him that he deserved it. She made him happy, she made him feel like he belonged to something. It may have been crazy, but he didn't care.

_If loving her is crazy_ , he thought, _Let me be crazy_.

Olivia waited on the sidewalk outside of her building, her hair curled and her lashes covered in mascara, framing her deep navy eyes in black. She was wearing the result of a twenty minute expedition through the depths of her closet: black leather jacket, blue sundress and black heels. The heat of the day was beginning to fade into a breezy night as the sun began to set. She pulled the sleeves of her jacket down, trying to shield herself from the chill. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and the tiny screen read 6:57 p.m. She shoved the device back into her pocket with a sigh.

_Relax, Liv, he'll be here,_ she told herself. She _was_ slightly nervous--nothing she couldn't handle--but she still couldn't shake the nervous jitters in her stomach. Even spies get nervous on first dates. She let out a short breath, running her fingers through her hair and smoothing down her dress. Adding to her uneasiness was all of the people, cars and... _movement._ There was energy everywhere and she felt every ounce of it, humming around her in an indistinct blur. Olivia was an introvert at heart for this very reason; keeping track of all of that energy, feeling every molecule of it was exhausting. Fun, but exhausting. She took in a deep breath, letting her eyes fall shut, and zoning in, all of the individual frequencies around her going from a jumbled blur to a crystal clear image of a cluster of tiny, blue stars in the shape of a random person passing her, followed by a starry collection of energy forming a taxi, zooming past her. She smiled softly to herself. Her second sight of energy had been growing stronger in the past week because, while under lock down in her apartment, she had nothing better to do than sharpen her skills. And, they hadn't been this good in _years_. So, now, the familiar energy signature approaching her was not just a bright, blue blur but actually had an outline, a figure, a form. Her smile widened.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your, uh...meditation?" his familiar voice said.

She opened her eyes to find him grinning down at her. "No, not at all," she replied smoothly, restraining her grin into a soft, almost shy, smile.

Steve’s eyes flicked up and down her figure. "You look stunning," he told her.

She felt her cheeks go hot as her face flushed _. Damn this charming man,_ she thought to herself. "Thanks, you're not too bad yourself," she said, subtly analyzing how defined his muscles looked in his blue button-up. "You clean up nice."

"Well I figured I might want to leave the uniform at home this time."

She chuckled. "Pity..." she muttered under her breath. "So, tell me, where are you taking me?"

"You don't already know?" he asked, quirking up an eyebrow at her. "I was under the impression that you knew everything."

"To be honest, I don't know _everything._ And, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to leave the mind-reading at work. I haven't had a night off in a while and I think, _just_ for tonight, we should pretend to be as normal as possible...Think you're up to that?"

He nodded with a smile. "Yes, ma'am. At least, this way, I might actually get to surprise you," he said as they began walking in the direction of the restaurant.

She gave him a pointed look. "I hate surprises."

"That's because a mind-reader is _never_ surprised and, on the off chance that you are, you feel like-"

"You've had the wool pulled over your eyes," she finished. "Yeah, they're usually not all too fun for me."

"I promise, you'll like this one."

"Oh, really? You've got some pretty high expectations to live up to..."

"I'm willing to take that challenge," he said with a confident smile. "It's just a block or two further."

The place was cozy. A whole-in-the-wall-type restaurant that everyone seems to have gone to, except you. While small, it was also elegant; white tablecloths and candle light.

"Well?" he asked, waiting for a reaction.

She smiled. "Not too bad, Steve. Not bad at all."

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Don't push your luck, soldier," she muttered. "And, here I thought we'd be going to a boring chain restaurant."

"Oh, no, no. I may be a bit old-fashioned but _never_ will I be boring," he said with a smirk.

"Promise?" she asked with an amused smile.

He laughed in response, holding open the door and motioning her inside. "Don't push it, Ritter."

"Thank you," she muttered, walking inside.

The two of them were sat down and their drink orders were taken. Olivia shrugged off her jacket and ran her fingers through her hair, nervously. "So, how've you been the last few days? You're all healed up and everything?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Perfectly peachy."

"And, you've had sometime off, right? Nick isn't sending you back on the job, is he?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"Actually, I've been on lockdown this whole week."

"...'Lockdown?'" he asked, his brow furrowing.

She quickly reminded herself that she had forgotten to explain it to him. "Oh, right. It's a, uh... a protocol. After a violent mission, I'm required to take a week off. I stay in my apartment, take time to relax and...y'know, take a breather," she explained.

"Is that mandatory?"

"Mm-hmm. Even if it wasn't, I would still stay up there, though. It's a lot safer that way."

"Safer?"

"When I was about seven or eight, they found out that after a mission I'm three times as likely to explode. So, they decided it was best to keep me in my blast-proof apartment to minimize the possible casualties I could cause."

Steve nodded. "...Spoken like a true statistic. Spoken like _Nick."_

_"_ I'm sorry, am I speaking in riddles and drill-sergeant cliches?" she asked, raising her eyebrows up at him.

He smiled. "You know what I meant."

"Nick can be right about somethings, believe it or not," she retorted,

"But, he really thinks the best thing is to lock you up in a tower?"

"I'm not a Disney princess. First of all, I don't have the voice for it. Secondly, I'm willingly going up in that tower, I'm not trapped."

"I'm just saying, it sounds a little..."

"Cruel?"

"I was going to say 'barbaric,' but that works, too."

"It's for the greater good. If I were to explode, I'd rather be alone, in my own home than on a job, or in the street."

"You have a point. I just think you'd go a little stir crazy."

She shrugged. "It's not so bad. I get a week off and anything I want is delivered to my front door."

"Oh, really? Anything?"

"Yep. Food, clothes, movies, et cetera."

He shrugged. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

"Well, enough about me," she said with an amused smirk. "Tell me, what's your story?"

He shrugged again. "I don’t have much of a story to tell."

"Don't lie to me, Steven," she reprimanded playfully.

He gave her a pointed look. "I thought you said no mind-reading tonight," he retorted.

"I don't need to read you to know you're lying," she explained. "Everyone has a story to tell, that's one of the best things about people. And I want to know yours."

"Well," he sighed, trying to deduce where to start. "...When I first tried to enlist--"

"No, no, no," she stopped him with a soft smile. "Everyone knows the tale of the famed Captain America, I'm sure half of the people in here could tell me the same story. But, that's not why I'm here. Last time I checked, I was on a date with Steve Rogers--unless, you've got your uniform on under your clothes-- And, I'm here to learn _your_ story, not Cap’s."

"Aren't they kind of the same thing?"

"Anyone can put on a suit and call himself any name he wants. It's the man behind the mask that actually matters."

He smiled. "You really think that?"

"Take it from the telepath: everyone has more to them than what meets the eye. It's what's inside that matters to me. And, I want to know what that is for you. Where were you born? What's it like there? What about your parents? When you were a kid, what was your favorite game? Who did you admire growing up? What did you want to be when you grew up? Are you that person now? What about the world scares you? What inspires you? _Who_ inspires you? What do you find joy in? Every person has a different set of answers and they say a lot about them. That's why I ask them, that's why I ask the hard questions. Screw small-talk, I want to know _you_. So, I'll ask again, what is your story?"

He smiled, processing what she had just said. "You," he answered finally.

"Sorry?"

"You asked me who inspires me. My answer is you."

She blushed slightly. "Me?"

"You've had a hell of a lot more than your fair share of bad luck, yet you still see the good in people. Bucky was a complete mess when you found him but you looked past the arm and what they made him do and you saw the person that he really is. Even after so much wrong has been done to you, you still find a reason and a way to do good. And, for someone who doesn't even know what good is anymore, you're pretty damn inspiring."

She smiled. "I guess, sometimes, you have to see more bad than good to know the difference between them."

He smiled. "To knowing the difference," he said raising up his glass.

"To knowing the difference," she parroted, clicking their glasses together.

The conversation continued on, the two of them having a discussion that never seemed to end. As promised, however, there never was a dull moment.

When they left, only about twenty minutes before the tiny restaurant closed, they had smiles across their faces. They sauntered out onto the sidewalk, laughing.

"So, he looks at me with this dead stare and mutters, 'Kid, don't even think about it. Put it down. Now.' And Nat freezes, turns to me, with his eye-patch still in her fist and she says 'run.' And, we dart out of the room," she laughed and he joined in. "But the best part is he sent out _ten agents_ after us to get his _eye-patch!"_

"Oh, I can totally see that happening," he laughed. "That is his intimidation tool. Do you have any idea how many times he's used his eye as an arguing point? 'Last time I did that, I lost an eye.''"

"Are you kidding? Growing up, he always brought up his eye to stop me from getting into trouble. 'You want to know what happened when I did that?" She pointed up to her left eye. "'This.' My god, he was _so_ annoying!" He laughed..

As they walked down the street in no particular direction, they found themselves in a crowd of people all staring at a man who was sitting on the street, drumsticks in hand, playing a complex rhythm on old plastic boxes and 5-gallon buckets. They stopped to watch with the other casual onlookers.

She took a deep breath in, closing her eyes and smiling.

"What's that look for?" he asked, amused.

She smiled up at him. "I'll show you." She reached down and intertwined her fingers with his. Butterflies began doing back flips in his gut but then, subtly her eyes began glowing brighter--not as bright as they usually did, they _were_ in public-- but still bright enough for him to notice. His lips parted, getting ready to ask what she was doing, but he was cut off by the odd feeling of something warm zapping up his arm and into his chest. His heart rate jumped as the warmth flowed into his veins and spread like wildfire. A steady pulse of energy danced under his skin, causing him to feel weightless and to numb the feeling of everything except the thumping of his heart. The hair on the back of his neck, his arms, his cheeks and his legs all stood on end, a chill waving over him. Energy from the wavelengths of sound in the air filtered through his ears and made him feel this _high._ Everyone around him, both viewers and musician, felt connected to him. All of them unified. He suddenly felt as if he could sense every heartbeat in that crowd, souls intertwining.

"What you're feeling right now," she said over the sound of the drums, "is the feeling that causes mob mentality. This--" she motioned to the crowd "--Humans _love_ this. Unity. Unity in emotion. We want to show that we feel a part of it, that we feel that vibe. Right now, all of these people are exchanging energy. This only happens to normal people when they feel inspired, when they're amazed by something. But for me, I'm always feeling this, the way energy moves between people, the vibe, the emotions. I'm always reading and seeing the energy in the air, around me. I _feel_ it. I _feel everything._ Every vibe, every emotion. And put in the right situation, you can feel it, too. And that's the amazing part about being human, the thing that separates us from savages beast _s; we all feel._ That is what humanity really is: life with emotion." He stared down at her, stunned. They way she spoke, her eyes glowing with passion, and glowing literally. She hadn't looked more beautiful than the way she did in that moment, her eyes sparkling, the drum beats pulsating in his heart. Then, she brushed her hair out of her face, glancing down at the ground. She huffed a laugh. "And, I sound like a complete hippy."

He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. He brought his hands up to cup her face as he kissed her, gently and sweetly. When they pulled away, static electricity sparked between their lips. She smirked up at him, almost proudly. "You find the beauty in the world that most people can't even see. There cannot be anything wrong with that," he told her with a soft smile, letting his hands fall back to his sides. She smiled wider, pecking at his lips again.

The two of them continued walking aimlessly through the city and, eventually, they made it back to her apartment building. They stopped outside the front door and he suddenly tensed, turning nervous. _You have to ask her,_ he thought, _you can't just walk away._

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Can I ask you something?" he blurted.

"Sure."

"Well...I was just wondering if, maybe, we could make this a-a regular thing? I-It doesn't even have to be in a, uh, romantic context, if that's what you want. I just...really want to see more of you," he said, his nerves getting the best of him.

She smiled warmly up at the famously bold and strong man turning shy. "Are you asking me if we can go steady?"

He sighed, defeated. "Yes. That," he said, glancing down at his feet.

She smiled wider. "I'd love to."

His ears perked up, bringing his surprised gaze back to her. "R-Really?" She nodded. "So, we're...?"

"Going steady, going out, dating, boyfriend-girlfriend, whatever you want to call it...Yes, we are. Assuming that's what you want, too?"

He smiled. "Of course, it is," he confirmed immediately. She smiled up at him in response. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Of course.”

“Well…” he sighed, not knowing where to begin. “I-I’m aware of how quickly people tend to take relationships now,” he started. She nodded, knowing where he was going with this. “And, as I’m sure you’ve realized, I’m old-fashioned...I-I was just wondering if, maybe, we could take things slowly? And, it’s not that I don’t find you attractive or that I don’t want to-- because, believe me, _I do_ \-- I just don’t think I’m ready for something like that,” he murmured, hanging his head.

She offered him a soft, reassuring smile. “Relax, Steve. I’d be perfectly fine with that.”

“Y-You are?”

“Of course. I don’t know if you noticed but my last relationship didn’t end on the best of terms. It’s going to take sometime before I’m ready for something that serious. I am perfectly fine with waiting,” she told him with a smile.

“Thank God,” he sighed, relieved.

“Don’t worry, we won’t do anything until we’re both 100% comfortable with it...alright?”

“Alright,” he agreed with a soft smile. “...Can I kiss you goodnight?”

“I’d be truly disappointed if you didn’t.”

 


End file.
